Golden Trail (The 'Burg #3)(213)



“She doesn’t even sound like her, Dad, it’s…” His voice broke and Layne’s stomach dropped hearing it. “Dad, it’s freaking creepy.”

Fuck.

Layne hooked another left. “What does she say?”

“Nothin’ that makes sense.”

“Tell me what she says, Tripp.”

He was quiet a beat and then he said, “She says she can’t make you do it.”

“Can’t make me do what?”

“I don’t know, Dad, God!” He was getting agitated, or more agitated. “That’s just what she says. Over and over again. ‘I can’t make him do it! I can’t make Layne do it!’”

Jesus f**king Christ.

“Do not let her leave,” Layne ordered.

“Right.”

“Tripp, listen to me, if she doesn’t have her keys, find them and hide them. If she’s got them, talk to Jasper and tell him to do what he’s gotta do to get them away from her. She still tries to go, I don’t care if you have to tackle her and pin her to the ground, do not hesitate, boy, and do not let her leave. Tell your brother.”

“Right.”

“I’m coming home right now.”

“Right.”

“Be there soon,” he stated, flipped his phone closed, flipped it open, scrolled down to Dave and hit go.

“Hey Tanner,” Dave answered.

“Rocky’s turned,” Layne announced and got silence. “Dave, did you hear me? Rocky’s turned. Something’s wrong. Tripp just called, said she’s shouting at Ma about not making me do something and he says she doesn’t sound like Rocky. He’s freaked.”

“I’m on my way,” Dave replied urgently.

“No, no you are f**kin’ not. Talk to me.”

“She needs me.”

“Talk to me, Dave.”

“I’m at the tackle shop in Plainfield, I’ll be there soon’s I can.”

“Dave –”

Dead air.

“Fuck!” Layne exploded, stopped at a red light and waited impatiently, adrenalin surging through his system, so much he could feel it. His hands were shaking, the muscles in his thighs quivering, he was staring at the no turn on red sign like he could make it designate with his eyes. “Fuck,” he whispered.

He turned when he had his shot, the light still red, Layne went right and broke the speed limit by thirty miles an hour, overtaking two cars to make it home. He parked on the street and ran flat out to the front door, opening it, he heard her instantly.

“No!” Rocky shrieked, her voice hoarse, guttural, even as Layne moved to the stairs he felt that voice send a shiver along his skin. “I’ve got to go! I have to be gone before he gets home!”

“Rocky, honey, just calm down, okay? Okay, honey?” Vera cooed, Layne took the stairs three at a time and hit the top to see Tripp, Vera and Jasper had Rocky cornered in the weight room.

Her face was red, her body was wired, her hair was down and wild, like she’d been tearing her hands through it, a vein had popped out on her forehead, running down the middle to disappear at the bridge of her nose.

Her eyes came to his and hers were flooded with fear.

“Baby,” he whispered and she moved, like a dart, shooting through his family, right at him.

She tried to dodge him at the last minute but he caught her, arm at the waist, swinging her up in front of him, her back to his front. Her legs kicked and her nails clawed at his arm but he turned and walked to his room even as she fought.

“Calm down, Rocky,” he whispered in her ear, her body bucked, her head colliding against his shoulder when he jerked his out of the way at the last second. “Calm down, baby.”

“Let me go!” she screeched in that hideous voice.

He got into his room and she twisted violently in his arms, her hand up, she scored his neck with her nails and the pain shot through him, his arms loosening, she yanked away from him and tried to get passed him but he put a hand flat on her chest and gently pushed her back, feeling Vera, Tripp and Jasper moving in behind him to cut her off. She still made a run for it and Layne caught her again and pushed her back.

Her gaze swept Layne, his mother and his boys and she retreated, slowly stepping back, her eyes locking on Layne as he advanced.

“Don’t,” she warned, lifting a hand and stopping so Layne stopped too.

“Rocky, what’s goin’ on?” Layne asked softly.

“I can’t make you do it,” she told him and she began to pace, like an animal in a cage, side to side, her eyes flitting from him to Tripp to Vera to Jas to Layne and back as she repeated, “I can’t make you do it.”

“Do what?” Layne asked.

She shook her head, her eyes catching his. “I can’t make you do it.”

“Do what, baby?”

“Be with me,” she said and then started chanting as she paced. “I can’t make you be with me, I can’t make you be with me, I can’t make you be with me.”

Jesus. Jesus.

“Rocky, baby,” Layne whispered.

She started to shake her head and kept doing it, her eyes going to her feet, she was still pacing back and forth, “I didn’t help her. I didn’t help her. It was so dark.”

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